


Free at last

by Verse



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Don't say I didn't warn you, F/F, Wendigo Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 11:49:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5374211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verse/pseuds/Verse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>request on tumblr: " How about some Wendigo!Hannah and Sam, were at some point ether Hannah recognizes Sam or they both recognizes each other at the house. Then Hannah escapes the fire with an unconscious Sam... How about some fluff or cuddles (maybe smut)? "</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free at last

**Author's Note:**

> I am very ashamed
> 
> (it's a lie)

 

It’s a sneaky little thing, the spirit that took over Hannah’s body. It whispered in her ears and made it sounds like it was her own thoughts, lulled her with promises of _strength_ and _no more pain no more cold no more hunger,_ manipulated her into not realizing she wasn’t fully in control of her own body until it was too late.

She’s jealous of Beth, frankly. Her death was quick and painless; Hannah is trapped, trapped, up the mountains down the mines, trapped in a prison of flesh and bones she’s forced to see deteriorate each days as the spirit changes it to its need.

She doesn’t hate it as much as she hates knowing she’s the only one to blame.

 

* * *

 

It’s easier to sleep.

She sees no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil in that state. The spirit can uses her hands to tear open a deer’s throat, her teeth to strip the skin off another human being, she doesn’t care. She’s unaware. She’s asleep.

Call her a coward if you will. She can’t do anything anyway, so why force her to watch? Isn’t being trapped here all alone enough? 

So she sleeps, sinks her whole being in that substitute for death, and ignores the world around her.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hannah!”

 

* * *

 

Hannah snaps awake.

 

* * *

 

It’s _her_.

The whole world seems to stop for a second because it’s her it’s _Sam_. Sam. Her best friend. Sam. _Sam_.

But time doesn’t stop, of course. It keeps running and Hannah has to think _fast_ because the spirit is using her very own hands to raise Sam into the air and she will not let her best friend get killed idle.

She can not take back the control -god knows she’d tried. The spirit is too strong. But she can surprise it.

As a hand strikes to gut Samantha, Hannah launches all her strength on the arm holding her and jerks.

Sam flies off, thrown away, and hits the wall with a thud. She doesn’t get back up. Unconscious, probably.

But still alive.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s a sneaky little thing, that took over Hannah’s body.

But two can play this game.

_Get her out of here,_ she whispers, _it’s your prey, your’s, **your’s,** the others are not important, leave them to the other spirits, get this one to safety._

The spirit ignores Mike walking to the lightbulb, ignores the other creatures getting in, only grabs Sam’s shirt and gets out.

Hannah, if she has to be honest, is quite pleased to have made a difference for once.

 

* * *

 

_Run, run run- get her to safety. Run run- not in the mines, they’ll find her. Run in the woods, faster-_

The spirit slows down, hesitant. It only takes a second for Hannah to understand.

It’s morning.

The spirit doesn’t like the sun- doesn’t like anything related to fire, actually. It scares it.

Weaken it, if only for a short time.

Hannah doesn’t hesitate.

She hops back in her body and _pushes_.

 

* * *

 

She knows she only has until dusk- she can hear the spirit howling around her, waiting to possess again. It’s a miracle, really, that she managed to regain control.

“…Hannah?”

For Sam, though, she’ll hold on until there is no other options.

Picking up her pace, she heads down the mountain.

 

* * *

 

She doesn’t actually _think_ she can walk all the way down in on day- she just hopes to get Sam as far as possible from these damned mines.

She’s not wrong; when the sun sets, she’s not even halfway down.

What she didn’t expect, though, was for the spirit’s strength to _lessen_ on the way down.

Her body is still distorted and she itches to tear her skin off, but _she’s in control_. For the first time in over a year, she feels _free_.

_All because of you_ , she thinks, tucking Sam under her chin and wrapping her overly-long arms around her. She may not be able to feel the cold anymore, but she’s sure Sam can still dies from it, especially in these clothes.

She only sleeps with one eye out of fear, but it’s still the best sleep she’d ever gotten.

 

* * *

 

Sam needs to eat.

She needs it too, for that matter, though Sam is a priority. She gets to work the very next morning, pointing the way down to Sam and gesturing biting down something.

“I don’t… God, Hannah, is that really you?”

She nods eagerly. Yes, it’s her. Truly her. Whole. With her body and her mind, however fucked up they are.

As she sets off to find something to eat, Hannah wonders if the movements she saw were tears running down Sam’s cheek.

 

* * *

 

She knows Sam is a vegan, but finding edible plants in her state is really difficult- only being able to see movements, that is, sucks. Unless you don’t care about what isn’t actually moving, she guesses.

Sam still eats raw the hare she brings back though.

She talks, too- first while eating, then while walking. Hannah physically cannot answer, but she still likes to listen to her. She likes her voice, she likes having human contacts, she likes that she got at least _that_ of her old life back.

Hannah, for once, truly feels alive.

 

* * *

 

It’s sort of an accident.

They find a river on their way, and the temperature is finally high enough to get in without risking immediate hypothermia.

Hannah enjoys feeling the water run on her skin- it makes her feel less filthy, more human. 

Judging by Sam’s happy squeal and furious removal of clothes, she isn’t the only one enjoying the situation.

They swim around, for a bit- rub the dirt off their skin, relax their muscles. And then-

“Hannah, you’ve got something on your face!”

Water lands on her face with a splash.

Oh, so that’s how she wants to play, uh?

Hannah sinks in the water, circles around Sam. She tries to splash her again, but Hannah is monstrously fast. Even with the water slowing her down, she can still avoid some hits.

Sam, on the other hand, cannot avoid being grabbed and slammed on the shore even if she saw it coming from miles away.

Hannah tries to giggle- she can’t, but she hopes she still manages to get the message across. When she notices that Sam isn’t moving, though, she stops.

Did she hurt her? Was she too rough? Did she scare her? Did she-

“I,” she eventually speaks “definitively shouldn’t be that aroused right now.”

…

O h .

Hannah 

isn’t _quite_ sure what to do with that information.

Hesitantly, she raises a hand, rubs the back of it on Sam’s chest- her breath fasten a bit, but she doesn’t ask her to stop.

This is ridiculous. The entire situation is ridiculous. Hannah’s life is a cosmic joke and she’s still waiting for the punchline.

She keeps going anyway.

Her hand rubs Sam’s chest, trails down under her breasts- she’s scared, she won’t deny it. Scared to hurt Sam, scared to do something she’ll regret. So she go slow and careful, ready to pull away if asked to.

Sam’s hands raise, seize her own breasts. Hannah wishes she could see her face. At the very least she can hear her quiet whimpers.

Her hand keeps making its way downer, grazing Sam’s bare (and amazing) legs, patting her stomach, and-

_“Hannah”_

She doesn’t dare using her fingers-she’d bring noting but pain. She can only rubs Sam’s clit, and watch Sam's hands join her own to give herself the pleasure Hannah can’t give her.

“ _Hannah, Hannah, Hannah, Hannah…_ ”

Hannah doesn’t think she deserves it, but her name still feels wonderful on Sam’s lips.

 

* * *

 

“We’re really, really fucked up.”

That’s the first thing that comes out of Sam’s mouth afterward.

“I mean, I don’t regret it- but we’re… you’re… fuck. You know what I mean, right?”

Hannah nods, because she does, and hugs Sam tighter for emphasis.  They are a lot of things- ‘alright’ is not one of them.

For the time being, though, she’s okay with that.

 

**Author's Note:**

> *douses self in holy water*


End file.
